


shatter

by alpacamybags



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Child Loss, Emotionally Hurt Sam Winchester, Episode: s14e08 Byzantium, Family Feels, Gen, Hurt Jack Kline, I'm Sorry, Jam Fam, Sad, Sad Ending, Sam Winchester is Jack Kline's Parent, Temporary Character Death, This is very very sad, Tissue Warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:49:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26650132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alpacamybags/pseuds/alpacamybags
Summary: Sam sits with Jack while he dies, and feels something inside him shatter.
Relationships: Jack Kline & Sam Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 60





	shatter

“Please don’t be sad. Maybe this is how things are supposed to be.” 

Dean was angry. Sam knew he wasn’t, really, not at Jack, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about that right now. All he could do was stare at Jack, weak and dying in his bed. It wasn’t right. It didn’t feel real.

He was tempted to squeeze the ghostly scar on his palm, try to make it all go away. Deep down he knew it wouldn’t do any good. 

Dean walked out. Sam was dimly aware of Cas following, and he noted Jack’s eyes weakly trailing after. They had something special, Cas and Jack. Sam thought maybe himself and Jack did too. 

And it was all going to slip away. 

“Tell him it’s okay.” 

Sam felt it like a bullet to the stomach, a knife to the back. A leap into Hell. He wanted to rage, to scream, to yell at God to come down and fix it. He remembered days where his anger was cold and controlled, strong enough to kill demons, volatile enough to make them fear him. 

It was nothing but a distant memory, stored so deep it was just a whisper, a wisp of smoke. He hardly got angry anymore. He couldn’t. Because if he let himself, he’d snap. 

_Duct tape and safety pins._

So instead he forced a smile, for this sweet, kind boy, who was moments from the edge of the mortal coil and yet worried about someone else. 

“Tell him yourself. He’ll be back.”

_Hope’s kinda the whole point._

Jack struggled to lie down, every movement an effort. Images of family in the same spot flickered behind his eyelids, a clip show out of focus. Flickering with static.

_Dean at 26, heart failing. Bobby, fighting with all he had, slipping away while Sam held on to his hand. Dad on the floor, coffee cup coffee cup coffee cup._

“What comes next?” 

He told the truth. Truth was the least he could do, the least he could offer. But Jack didn’t belong anywhere else but Heaven. 

_Anywhere else but here with me._

“Then it’ll be an adventure.” 

Something inside Sam fractured, twisted, charred. Jack was so good, too good, and he was looking to death as an adventure. Sam had never been that optimistic, never had that kind of strength. Death for Sam was a distant goal, a final peace he’d never find. 

He wasn’t that lucky. 

Sam watched Jack. His son, in everything but blood. In a twisted, horrible way, they kind of shared that too. In Jack was the best of all of them- Kelly’s heart, the foundation. Mary’s tenacity, picked up in the Apocalypse World. Dean’s stubborn resolve, learned from watching and copying. Like Sam had. So much of Castiel, to the point where they were practically mirror images. Sam saw himself in there too- in the fear of what you are and what you can do. 

Sam hoped with all he had left that he’d been able to help Jack see that he was more than that. So much more. That he was good, in every fibre of his being, every step of the way. 

_Listen to me, Jack! It doesn’t matter what you are, it only matters what you do!_

A different Jack, a different time, a different Sam. 

What was it all worth?

_Maybe I’m not worth all this._

_Your mom thought you were. So did Cas. So do I._

Optimism. None of them had it anymore, not enough. But Jack did. Jack had it in spades, found it in unlikely places. In nougat candies, in hearing new songs, in Scooby-Doo, in that cookie cereal he liked. 

When facing death. 

Sam knew the minute Jack slipped away, his face peaceful and his muscles relaxed. He’d seen death enough times to know. The clip show still played behind his eyes, black and white pictures of days he’d never forget. He just stared at Jack, feeling like he was floating. 

_Ceiling fire coffee cup i’m asking you to save me mystery spot hellhounds to make a bomb, sam lake idjits purgatory eyes burned out knife to the heart bathtub soul bomb angel blade in the back_

_Knife to the stomach. I love you._

_Oxygen mask. Bed. Then it’ll be an adventure._

Dean and Cas were back. Sam knew they’d never forgive themselves for not being there, Cas especially. He couldn’t bring himself to care. He just felt hollow. 

“He’s gone.” 

To push those words out, something deep inside him shattered, something Sam hadn’t even known was there. It’d been made out of thousand-watt smiles and nougat and endless bounds of optimism. Built up by doe-eyes and floppy hair and innocent questions. 

_I love you._

_Jack, no!_

It was broken now, deep inside. Jack took it with him wherever he was now, on his great adventure. That was good. That way he’d know Sam was proud of him. That he loved him. 

Because no amount of duct tape and safety pins could ever put it back together.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry, y'all. I was in my SamnJack feels and just went for it, and definitely cried while writing it.   
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, even though it's horribly depressing. Thanks for reading, I appreciate you! <3


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